


Duane Dibbley

by DownOnThePharm



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: AU, Back to reality, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 15:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17583776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DownOnThePharm/pseuds/DownOnThePharm
Summary: In the dystopian democracy of the “Back to Reality” universe, one man is feared more than even Voter-Colonel Sebastian Doyle.





	Duane Dibbley

**Author's Note:**

> Duane Dibbley, assassin and thug? Why not?
> 
> Thanks to Janamelie for Hunter the blue-eyed cop. I promise I’ve returned him unharmed.
> 
> Sorry for this over-the-top madness - no, wait. I’m really not.

From his post at the back wall, Hunter quietly observed the Cabinet officials as they filed into the conference room. The usual toadies and flunkies were present, all there hoping to curry favor with the Voter-Colonel. _Lickspittles_ , he thought in disgust. Were the Voter-Colonel to issue the order, Hunter would have unhesitatingly executed every last one of them with relish. _Sycophants. I hate you all._

As the Voter-Colonel entered the conference room, Hunter noted the human shadow close on his heels. He barely managed to suppress a shudder.

 _He has the monster with him... why?_

The man accompanying Doyle was an enigma even to the Voter-Colonel’s most trusted lieutenants. No one knew from where he had come, nor why. His true identity was a closely guarded mystery. His reputation, however, was well known, and the mere mention of his assumed name sent frissons of fear down the spines of voters and Party officials alike.

As the Voter-Colonel seated himself at the head of the gleaming mahogany table, his companion set his pink plastic tote bag down on the floor and stood at Doyle’s right elbow. Looking around at the apprehensive faces of the assembled officials, he adjusted his ever-present anorak and smiled broadly, displaying a mouthful of oversized teeth. 

“Hello, sirs and madams!”

The Cabinet members nodded in acknowledgment of his greeting, each silently praying that he or she wouldn’t draw undue attention or unwittingly cause offense. Everyone knew that it never went well for those who crossed Duane Dibbley. 

An almost imperceptible smirk twitched Hunter’s lips as he observed their discomfiture. 

Dibbley’s appearance could charitably be described as eccentric, with his bowl-like haircut, unfashionable, uncoordinated, and ill-fitting clothing, and clear plastic shoes. No one dared laugh at him, however - not since the Glorious Leader’s last inaugural ball seven years before. A drunken Senator had guffawed in Dibbley’s face, slapping him on the back while braying about teeth like Druidic standing stones and clothes that could be burned for their petroleum content. He had gone missing a day or two after the event. 

It had taken ten days for all the packages of his body parts to be delivered to his family.

Demon, the people called Dibbley. Beast. Monster. He was the Voter-Colonel’s personal bodyguard and assassin, a deadly weapon in the guise of a novelty toy. He had never failed to eliminate a target, and his cruelty was legendary. Even though he found the man appalling, Hunter nevertheless harbored a secret admiration of the sheer savagery of Dibbley’s chosen methods. Even the Voter-Colonel at his most inventive had never approached the depths of Duane’s brutality. He specialized in carrying out executions with the most mundane of household objects. Anything could be lethal in Dibbley’s skilled hands. Favored techniques included triple-thick condoms used as garrotes, skulls caved in with Thermoses of strawberry milk, and thousands of cuts inflicted with the sharp edge of a laminated animal tracking guide. 

_Terrifying bastard_ , thought Hunter. 

There were rumors, thus far unsubstantiated, that Dibbley wasn’t even fully human, but an abomination, a hybrid spawned from the fusion of human and jaguar DNA in a series of clandestine and not strictly legal genetic experiments. Although he scoffed at the idea whenever someone mentioned it to him, were Hunter honest with himself, he could believe that there could be some truth to it. More than once, he had witnessed the supposedly clumsy and uncoordinated Dibbley pursue and take down a target with feline grace and preternatural speed. He had also seen Duane rake his nails across an enemy’s face and leave behind what could readily be described as big cat claw marks...

Terrified gasps from the Cabinet members startled Hunter back to full attentiveness. “Many of you have disappointed me,” the Voter-Colonel was saying. “Among your number are several who have questioned the actions of my Ministry. Some have even questioned my fitness to pursue my duties. An example must be made. Enemies of democracy must not be tolerated, no matter how lofty their positions. Mr. Hunter?”

Hunter snapped to attention and clicked his heels smartly together. “Yes, Voter-Colonel? How may I serve you?”

Doyle lazily waved one well-manicured hand at the Minister of Propaganda, who was seated at the other end of the table. “Please escort Minister Jameson to the front of the room.” As Jameson sputtered and protested, Hunter gripped his arm firmly, and half-escorted, half-dragged him to stand before the Voter-Colonel.

“Minister Jameson, you stand accused of corresponding with the leaders of the resistance movement that seeks to destroy our glorious democracy,” Doyle drawled. “Have you any answer to this?” 

Collapsing to his knees, Jameson stammered, “My - my Voter-Colonel, this is untrue! There is no greater supporter of democracy than I! Please, you must believe me!”

An expectant hush fell over the conference room as Doyle silently regarded the Minister.

“I don’t believe you. Mr. Dibbley, please do the honors.” 

Dibbley stepped forward, a shank fashioned from a dandruff brush in hand, and set to his gory work. Hunter could have sworn he heard the assassin purring with pleasure. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, observe the fate of those who would threaten democracy,” Doyle said to the horrified officials as Jameson’s screams faded away into gurgles, then silence. “Look upon Minister Jameson. Would any of you care to join him? No? Then never question me. Ever. Thank you, Mr. Dibbley. That will be all.” 

As Dibbley did a little victory dance, then fished a large plaid napkin from his pink bag and placidly began wiping his hands clean, the Voter-Colonel continued, “Now, for the next order of business. I’ve decided to take a brief leave of absence from my duties...”

 _My Voter-Colonel, there is no greater defender of democracy than you_ , Hunter thought.


End file.
